Lotus Flower
by CrystalMoonlightII
Summary: Destiny felt like a fleeting thing in a land of war and power. Some sought glory, while others simply wished to leave a mark on the world. The land was changed forever in 1560, and Naotora Ii was forced to fight against the chaos. Stood beside a mysterious swordsman; and a little girl, she struggled to survive the battle of Okehazama... (First story of the Land of Honor series!)
1. The Mighty Imagawa

**I've been a big Samurai Warriors fan for a long time. Not just Samurai Warriors, in fact, but also the history of the time itself. The feudal era really interests me. This is an idea I came up after a lot of thinking, and I'm hoping to cover a lot of the major moments in the history of the game. I would also like to thank my awesome lady, Sayuri Tsukihime for her loan of her character, Tsukiyo.**

 **This first chapter begins on the night before the battle of Okehazama, and is going to tell the story of the Ii clan, and a minor clan in service to them, the Nishimura, as they prepare to go to battle against the Oda. Also, please note that a character of my design will also be coming in too.  
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* * *

 **The Mighty Imagawa**

Rain beat down hard upon the ground. It symbolized an omen, one of which the mighty Imagawa clan cared little for. They had the might and men to bring the whole land beneath their heel. Why would they have need for superstitions and tall tales at a time like this?

Thousands of men were still abuzz within the camp. They busied themselves moving supplies and making last minute preparations for the coming battle. Meanwhile, the nobles and senior samurai sat within the tent of Lord Yoshimoto Imagawa. Many bold men from many prestigious families sat in orderly lines, many of them bowed as they addressed the lord himself.

Lord Yoshimoto, a plump, elegantly robed gentleman, but by no means to be considered to be lacking in power, he ruled over his clan and family with absolute authority. His influence was vast, and his political connections in the land outweighed almost everybody else in the land. He silently watched with a stern expression as his generals and advisors stood in debate.

Their voices slightly elevated, they each prattled away about their petty stakes in the conflicts against the Oda forces, their honor; their rightful places in the battle formations, and who should have the esteemed privilege of being upon the frontline. Little else seemed to concern them, men of loyalty, but also bound by their own personal desires and obligations.

Yoshimoto grew tired. Insistently, he raised his hand. The mere gesture; that single movement, it was enough to silence the entire room, "I would much prefer it if I were given a battle report of the previous days."

The dark eyes of the mighty daimyo slithered across the room in perfect contrast to his relatively paler features. With his sight his master, he scanned the room for a man amongst his generals who was worthy of answering his question.

His gaze fell upon an man amongst the rabble who bore tidy hair and clean features, his frame being muscular and sturdy in form. His eyes shone the deepest brown of serenity and loyalty, and his robe was neatly worn and exquisite in quality. Upon his garment, a deep purple in color, was adorned his family crest, a bright and majestic moon ensnared within a sphere of light. His name? Akihide Nishimura, head of the lesser Nishimura clan of fifteen-hundred men.

"Lord Nishimura," Imagawa began with stern authority in his voice, "You will answer my question. They say the Oda army is on the verge of retreat. Are you aware of the numbers they possess, as well as our own progress into their land of Owari?"

"My Lord Imagawa," Akihide spoke respectfully as he stood and bowed as was expected, "Marune castle has already been captured, and the Oda appear to be on the retreat. Our scouts say they have little more than eleven-hundred men remaining, and they are barricaded within Zensho-Ji."

Words of delight indeed for Yoshimoto, the daimyo of the mighty Imagawa clan gave a small but smug smile and gestured with a nod, "Very well," he continued, "You and Naomori Ii are to begin spreading word the troops in camp. We mobilize at dawn to march on the Oda stronghold."

Both Akihide and Naomori, a bold and majestic older man with finely trimmed; greying facial hair and an air of confidence, stood in unison and bowed, "It shall be done, my Lord," they both spoke in perfect synchronization before leaving the tent.

Upon their departure, they both seemed to relax a little. The utterly rigid atmosphere within the tent of Lord Yoshimoto, in truth it was far too much for either one of them to handle in large doses.

Naomori turned to Akihide to speak first, "I must speak to my daughter once I have passed our Lord's wishes onto a messenger for the camp. I believe she intends to stand and fight in this battle."

There was a light chuckle from the lips of Akihide, his eyes showed a glint of mutual understanding, "I also have my youngest daughter here. It is my intent to move her to Owari castle once we have taken it from the Oda. Lord Yoshimoto has given me the honour of doing so in exchange for my continued service."

The elder man of the two, Naomori, stopped for a moment as he ran a hand through his silver hair. He gave a warm smile to his comrade and friend, somebody he could depend on for steadfast loyalty, despite his lower rank, "Then it would seem that we are both destined to be busy on this eve. Tis a shame too," Ii added with a sigh, "especially since the common soldier celebrate with Sake and song."

A wry smile curved Akihide's lips, a grim thought indeed that the peasant men celebrated while the generals worked, "Well then," he declared with a heroic flare to his tone, "Let us celebrate come tomorrow evening, my friend. We will talk of our foes felled while we enjoy some of the wine for ourselves."

"I most certainly agree with that fine idea," Naomori said with a bow before heading away to deal with his own errands.

Much of the evening come forth without fault. The common soldiers celebrated while the camp continued to revel in their near victory. There was very little left to be done before Lord Yoshimoto would have a clean break straight through to the capital. The attitude was that victory was almost assured at this point.

* * *

Hours passed by soon after, with the eve of midnight fast approaching. Things remained quiet while the generals slept in their fine tents in preparation for the following morning. However, the peace of night could not last forever. There was indeed, much more afoot at this late hour.

A horn sounded, it's intensity more than enough to wake the majority of people from their slumber at this late hour. People were dazed by such a sound at so advanced a time of night.

"We have an intruder," came a bellowing voice across the length and breadth of the camp. Many men scrambled at the sound of such words echoed at this time. Was it the enemy perhaps, some kind of trick or trap?

Akihide and Naomori were two of the first to move in response. A Lord's place was at the front after all, not at the back. They hurried through the thin pathways left between the lordly tents that littered the camp. With very little in the way of light to go on, the pair had to follow sound, the silver-haired Naomori in front, while the younger and more clean cut Akihide was behind. Their feet followed the trails blazed ahead of them by scurrying peasant soldiers.

When their feet eventually came to a stop just ahead of a ring of peasant soldiers, things became clear. In an attempt to get a closer look at the situation, the elder of the Ii clan stepped further forward.

Nishimura was ready to follow, sword clutched tightly in hand, however, he found his attention drawn away by the weak tug of a small and slender hand pulling softly upon the lower half of his robe.

"Father," came a soft and gentle voice of childlike nature.

Such a familiar and delicate little voice caused the lesser daimyo of muscular build and clean features to become distracted from his task. He turned slowly and cast his gaze downward. His eyes caught the sight of an all too familiar little girl.

She was little and fragile, her long black hair flowing far down her back and almost to the floor. Her eyes of deepest brown bore an expression of sleepiness and confusion of the dead of night. The face of the little lady was pale with the tiniest little mole in the shape of a tear. Her lips curved into a tiny smile that was half of intrigue and the other, lopsided and drowsy. Her luxurious red robe bore the same emblem as that of the man who stood before her, and finally, behind this little girl was a very flustered looking handmaiden.

"Father," the small girl continued as she gave another weak tug upon Akihide's robe, "I heard loud noises…."

With a sigh, Akihide set down his sword for a moment and kneeled to be on the same level as his daughter, "It is okay, little Tsukiyo. Please return to your tent and go back to sleep. I will be sure to make sure everything is alright," his words were both gentle, but yet slighty assertive, as they had to be for the head of a household.

Meanwhile, Naomori came to the front of the line of soldiers, his eyes cast upon the sight of the disturbance in camp, a tall man with striking features. He brought his eyes further toward the scene at hand, and alas, they went the slightest bit wider when they beheld a female figure. She stood preparing for battle in front of this confused stranger.

Surrounded by a dozen men stood the man with rugged features, tall in stature, much taller than the majority of men in camp. He bore long and messy hair that was a color of deepest black. It's locks shone against the pale moonlight in the sky above, the intensity been a sight to behold. His body, adorned with garments of a common swordsman at a glance, but there was something out of place at closer inspection; their being of a silk quality. Such a thing was far beyond the simple coin of a commoner. Most noticeable of all was his skin, lighter in shade for starters, but much lighter than anything that was seen amongst the average man of these lands, it too shone against the glow of the moon. The body of this bizzare warrior was muscular and well built at a glance. Yet the most prominent featue he had was his eyes, they were not of dark origin. Instead, they shone a powerful and almost hypnotic green color.

Naomori's attention was next brought to the second person within the circle of people that surrounded the strange intruder. She was a tall female warrior of curvy figure, dark brown eyes, and longest black hair in elegant pigtails. Her beautiful womanly form was protected with lacqured red armour, and well shined bladed boots. Upon the pale and dainty features of the lady was an expression of slight confidence mixed with unease. Her body remained anchored firmly in combat stance.

Naomori knew this girl in an instant, just by sight alone.

"You intend to do battle with this ruffian, do you, my daughter?" The partiarch of the Ii family as he watched this situation play with both unease and great interest... Unable to simply stand back, the tall; elder man decided to make himself known to the crowd.

"Naotora," he called out in a stern voice from the front of the crowd.

"F-father," stammered the young woman with a nervous frown, "I'm very sorry! Please, allow me to defeat this intruder, and then we can all go back to sleep in peace."

When he saw the look of determination in the eyes of his daughter, Lord Ii simply gave a stiff nod, "Bring us glory against lowly man of common birth, for the glory of the Imagawa, and the Ii family."

With fists upraised, Naotora brought her gaze upon the rouge swordsman with another unhappy scowl, "If you don't surrender, I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I'll have to hurt you, intruder."

The feminine voice of Lady Naotora cut through the night air. The intensity of it caught the warrior with emerald green eyes off guard. His expression bore a look of intense confusion, but alas, he did not surrender.

A loud thump followed as he slammed his feet into the ground and threw back his scruffy, dark hair; with a frustrated sigh, "It certainly looks like they've caught me... Oh well, they aren't taking me without a fight!"

As if on automatic, the body of the stranger fell into a combat stance, a stance, which confused those all around. The way his toned man stood ready for sword combat, it was not akin to any style people had seen before. His sword remained undrawn at the side, but his body remained flexed outward, with one foot slightly ahead of the other.

With a low; frustrated growl, the unknown warrior brought his red-hot gaze upon Naotora. With his eyes, he beckoned her to come forth, "Have at thee! Give me everything you've got…"

There was no longer a chance to turn back. Naotora did not want to hurt the stranger, but she knew he would not stop otherwise. "I'm very sorry about this," she called out before lunging at her foe. With speed on her side, Lady Ii moved quickly. It was time to deliver the first kick!

 **To be continued...  
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 **Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter! I do hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I do writing it. Please feel free to leave some feedback or thoughts on this story so far if you like.. I'm very grateful for all the feedback people decide to give.**

 **Thank you for taking the time to read once again! I hope to see you in the next chapter.  
**


	2. Dance of Combat

**I hope you are ready for more Naotora, because I finally got back around to adding a little more to this story! I was not exactly sure how to kick off the battle of Okehazama, but I think the idea I came up with is reasonable! I wanted to do something that showed the swift chaos as the enemy suddenly attacked.**

 **I would like to thank everyone for their support of this story! Please enjoy the newest chapter! I'm a little unsure of myself with this project, so any and all support really does mean a lot!**

* * *

 **Dance of Combat**

"Dammit," the swordsman uttered under his breath before moving in an agile sidestep, "She's really fast."

With less than a moment to spare, he slid to his side and readied his weapon to counter, "Not bad…. I can at least feel happy knowing that this won't be boring."

Naotora landed upon the ground and slid through the dirt with the majority of the weight upon her heels. Once she was ready to move she spun around quickly and looked across to her foe rather unhappily, "Please stop this and surrender," she pleaded before clenching her fists and holding them up to defend, "I have no desire to harm you!"

"Huh," the silk robed warrior scoffed in a low voice and brought his blade to bare, "Such words mean little in this land, I find." With a shallow grunt, he slid forward on agile feet to deliver a powerful spiralling slice with the edge of his weapon.

The blade itself caught the faint glow of the moonlight and flickered intensely. Such a sight gave the weapon an almost mystic and illusionary presence. Its brilliance served to captivate many of the common soldiers at they watched the battle unfold.

Lady Naotora moved fast on her feet to evade. She leapt backward in a flexible double backflip and moved several meters back. Thankfully, the blade of her foe slid past her and missed by several clear inches. She let out a thankful sigh and eyed his stance. In Naotora's mind, this more evasive tactic was the fastest way to put some space between herself and her foe, especially when she considered that he was armed and she was not.

Lady Ii let a light gasp of exertion escape from her lips as she brought her leg up in a defensive guard, "Warrior…. I wish to know your name," she said softly, and much to the visible displeasure of her father who still watched on the side-lines.

The mysterious swordsman in the dark robes let out another low scoff of disinterest. He took a slight step back and held his blade in a solid defensive stance, "…..My true name is of no use in a place like this," he began in a low and stoic tone.

"However," the dark-haired warrior continued swiftly as his pale hands tightly gripped the hilt of his weapon, "If you feel so inclined to name a man you must kill… my name is Zaisan Shido."

Naotora seemed the slightest bit taken aback by the sheer aggression of the words her opponent spoke, "But… it is not my intention to kill you," she stuttered in a nervous tone, "I just wish for you to put down your sword."

"I can't do that," replied Zaisan with a conflicted shake of the head, "If I walk away from this place I will have no way of finding my true path in this land."

"T-then," Naotora said in a shy; nervous response, "I have no choice but to go all out against you! Prepare yourself… and I am very sorry."

Shido gave a calm and collected little smirk. One slow step at a time he advanced forward, and with a flourish of his blade he prepared to engage in battle again, "Good! Let us finish this!" As if under the command of the moons light, his blade flickered a second time….

The smooth swordsman let out a confident battle cry as his feet sent him barrelling closer to Naotora with every passing second. His eyes, they bore the intent to bring an end to this exchange. Yet… there was also something off about them.

Lady Ii saw an emotion deep within the gaze of her attacker and let out a slight sigh. It was an emotion she had in her heart on many an occasion, "….You don't want to do this… do you?" She whispered her words softly in response to the obvious flicker of doubt she saw in the eyes of Shido….

"Then in that case…. I will end our fight as fast as I can," Naotora cried with an intense strength in her usually gentle voice. An aura of extreme power pulsed through her body for a moment. As if like magic, a pinkish-red aura pulsed from her body, and she lunged at a truly incredible speed.

"Impossible," Zaisan stammered in disbelief, as his blade hit nothing but air. Naotora wasn't even in front of him anymore. His eyes went wide as a powerful sticking force slammed into his gut with vicious precision…

"Unf," he wheezed as his footing became wobbly and uneasy. Through quickly blurring vision, he caught the distorted sight of a heeled foot slammed directly into his ribs. Slowly and painfully, he glanced upward….

"I'm very sorry," Naotora cried out softly in apology as she pulled her foot from his chest and stood upright, "Please… just fall down now…. This has gone on long enough."

A brief struggle was only natural…. Zaisan staggered painfully as his wobbly legs fought with all of their might to keep his winded body upright. The young man took slow; pained steps toward Naotora with his blade still in hand. With all of his remaining might he slowly raised his weapon to strike again.

"…..Damn… you…. I have… I've failed," with a single last gasp Shido toppled forward in a final clumsy swing of his strangely glowing weapon. Yet, his eyes widened in surprise for a second time.

Naotora swiftly pulled the blade from his hands, much to the bewilderment of the entire camp, and quite simply shoved the dark-haired warrior to the ground with a loud thud. Slowly, his eyes closed, and in his final moments before losing consciousness, he heard a single pair of feet coming closer…

Naotora's father stood over Zaisan's motionless form with a stern and unflinching expression upon his steely face. He drew his own blade with little emotion, and looked to his daughter with a faint look of approval, "Well done, my daughter," spoke Naomori in place as he raised his blade to strike to unconscious Shido, "Now, we should put an end to this rouge. He may have allies that come looking for him."

"B-But father," Lady Ii spoke nervously with pleading hands clasped together. She glanced down at the helpless man in the dark robes and shook her head sorrowfully, "Perhaps we should lock him away instead…. It seems a terrible thing to kill him like this…. He could be of use to us."

Yet, Naomori simply gave an abrupt shake of his head and raised his sword, "The death of a common man will be no stain upon my honor this day…."

The patriarch of the Ii family prepared to strike, however…

* * *

"ENEMY ATTACK," came the howling voices of several frantic soldiers throughout the camp.

War horns started to blow at horrendous volume. In mere instants, dozens upon dozens of soldiers ran around in blind panic and cried out to rouse their sleeping comrades from their tents. Off in the distance a faint galloping of hooves could be heard…. The sheer intensity of such movement made the ground beneath the feet quake.

"My lord Naomori," came a peasant soldier in a chaotic dash. He stumbled at the feet of his master and gave a chaotic bow, "The Oda attack in the night! They have already overwhelmed our outer defences!"

"How many are there?" The master of the Ii clan shouted his words with absolute authority, "If they are already past our outer defences that means our Lord Imagawa is in danger! They will be on top of us in minutes!"

Storm clouds cracked suddenly. Their arrival was a mysterious thing indeed…. Almost as If by a higher power, torrential amounts of rain began to pour from the heavens.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the chaos, Akahide Nishimura looked downward to his young daughter and gave a commanding glare, "Tsukiyo. Please go to the safety of the soldiers. This is a serious business."

"….Yes father," the little girl said with a sad and slightly fearful frown upon her face. Her observant gaze flashed around for a second in brief and childlike observation of the scene around her. She did not entirely understand the scene around her, but what she did understand was the sight of the hurrying soldiers….

Little Tsukiyo looked expectantly at her handmaiden with a childlike gaze and softly took her by the hand, "Father says I must go with you now."

"Yes, my lady," the young handmaiden said in a swift nod. She cracked a gentle smile to her young charge and began to lead her by the hand, "We must go somewhere safe."

Akihide swiftly moved to stand beside Naomori. He gave a grave nod to articulate his extremely uneasy feelings, and looked to his comrade with a clear glint of duty in his eyes, "We must move to form our defences this very second. Everybody at our disposal will be needed to protect Lord Imagawa and the main camp."

"Indeed," started the stone-faced Naomori as his slightly aged features twisted into a very uneasy frown, "They struck at us while the bad weather covered their advance. Clearly, we have been decived."

"Then let us draw the battle lines now," Akihide swiftly replied with an adamant tone to his usually calm and methodical voice, "The safety of our Master depends on our immediate action."

The two minor lords gave a joint nod of approval and started to gather subordinates together in a hurry. However, Naomori turned his bulky form around to face his daughter before his final departure. He looked the young lady in the eyes and gave a very stern frown, "….Kill the ronin," he commanded as his eyes glanced downward at Zaisan's still unconscious body, "and then join the battle lines."

With not another word said, Lady Ii's father departed. Alas, Naotora was left in the pouring rain as all of the common soldiers and lords alike hurried off to battle. Before too long everything immediately around her had gone quiet. No, it was more than that…. The young woman had blocked out everything else around her, and her gentle gaze fell fearfully on the man she had knocked out a little while ago.

"My orders are to kill you," she whispered fearfully at the still unresponsive young man sprawled before her. Naotora's hand reached for a knife she had sheathed at her hip. Slowly and nervously, the young lady warrior brought the weapon closer and closer to Zaisan's throat. As the moments drew, on she found herself breathing harder and harder, until eventually the blade rested upon the neck of the helpless young man….

However, "I cannot do it…. You're defenceless," she wept a fearful tear and tossed the knife away. Her eyes fell upon the swordsman known and Shido, and she let out a sad little sob, "….Even if it's for father, I cannot kill somebody that can't fight back."

Yet, a problem remained…. Naotora still sat beside an unconscious man in the middle of the rain. Very shortly, this entire place would be destined to become a battlefield. If she left Zaisan behind he would just be killed by an enemy. However, she could not join the frontline with her father for fear of punishment for disobeying orders….

"I have no choice," the young lady with pigtails sighed as she slowly reached down, "….You need to wake up," she shouted loudly to Zaisan as she began to lightly slap his face, "Please... If you do not wake you will perish!"

"It's not working," Naotora cried nervously. Her heart pounded harder and harder with every passing moment. The enemy would no doubt he upon her if she stayed here too long!

"I'm sorry about this, Mister Zaisan," the young lady spoke swiftly as she pulled the rather weighty young man up from the ground, and literally began to carry him.

If anything, Naotora had always been gifted with incredible strength for a woman her size, something she was quite easily able to incorporate into her melee fighting style. With a single mighty heave the young woman swept Siazan off the ground and threw him over her shoulder, "….Hey, you're surprisingly light," she chuckled in a slightly goofy moment of digression.

Once Naotora had the swordsman securely upon her shoulders, she took off on a run as swift as her legs could carry her. The enemy would no doubt crash into the main camp in mere minutes. That left her with only one choice, "I need to ensure Lord Imagwa's safety and we must withdraw," she said aloud with great haste….

 **To be continued...  
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 **Thank you once more for taking the time to read this new chapter! Please feel free to leave some feedback if you would like. Samurai Warriors really is a new fanfic genre for me. That said, all the feedback people leave me really does help me get a grasp for the finer details.**

 **Also, do hope people liked Zaisan, because I always make a conscious effort to make sure any original characters I add are well developed. I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	3. The fall of Yoshimoto Imagawa

**I'm not sure how many people are still reading this story. However – I've far from given up on writing it. Thank you very much for coming back for more if you're a returning reader.**

 **I've also uploaded many new stories since I started this project. So – for those of you looking to read more, please feel free to visit my profile. You might find another story that you like – I write things such as Dynasty Warriors, Huniepop; Fire Emblem and more.**

* * *

 **The fall of Yoshimoto Imagawa**

"My Lord," a peasant soldier rushed into the tent of his Lord Imagawa. Flustered and baring a sword, he bowed in a hasty showing of respect, "We are under attack…. The Oda have flooded our camp in the depths of night. Our men are-"

"Be silent and do not spout such nonsense." The Master of the clan stood and reached for his cup of sake. "We have them cornered at Zensho-Ji. Return to your duties at once and do not disturb me agai-"

Blood – deep and red. It splattered across the pristine whiteness of the tent and caused the handful of retainers therein to jump in panic. The peasant fell to the floor with crimson leaking from his lips. As his expression fell in pain, he looked to his lord and master, "My Lord…. You must run."

In mere moments, chaos took hold. Soldiers emblazoned with the insignia of the Oda upon their armor entered the tent with their spears and swords at the ready. One of them – standing at the forefront, brandished his armament with a flourish. "Prepare to die. Your quest for Kyoto ends here…."

"I shall defend you, my lord." An Imagawa samurai stood from his seat and reached for his weapon. "It would seem that the sounds outside were not the rowdiness of the common soldiers as we initially thought."

He moved to the side of his lord and stood in valiant defence, "I shall not let them pa-"

A violent stab of a spear – the retainer found his legs staggering before he collapsed on the ground in a heap. "You must… escape from here… my Lord."

It all happened with such haste. As the seconds slipped through the hourglass the patriarch of the mighty Imagawa clan found himself cornered in his tent by a half dozen invaders carrying spears. The one who spoke before – a peasant with a pair of light scars and scraggly dark hair raised his sword.

"For the honor of my family – Master Nobunaga will reward me with lands and prestige for this." In a blur of speed, the sword struck out at its target.

A second spattering of rouge liquid, and in a final moment, Yoshimoto felt his vision falling askew under the force of darkness. Everything was becoming so cold, and in one powerful gasp of breath, he reached with outstretched fingers, "Impossible…. This is now how things were supposed to end…. The capital was so close. Kyoto was almost within my grasp."

The sheen of silver struck once more. There was silence – until a powerful cheer erupted from the blood-splashed tent. "Yoshimoto Imagawa is dead!"

* * *

Naomori Ii staggered amidst a sea of enemies and reached for his sword with heavy breathes from his exhausted body. "Surrounded… but I will not surrender. No… I will not rest until I have fulfilled my obligations as a warrior."

Thoughts of his daughter flooded forth – he did not intend to die here until he could see her face once again. As the spearmen circled, he gripped the hilt of his shined blade with a sense of renewed vigor. "Naotora… we will survive this battle. We will overcome the hardships in our way and we shall meet again – my daughter.

With each powerful stroke of the sword the elder warrior – a veteran of combat in his own right, sliced down one foe after the other. With the power and grace of the Crane, he ended one attacker after another. Each precision slash dyed the clear as crystal rainwater in a deepest hue of red.

The adrenaline of battle coursed through every inch of his being. One strike powered the momentum to feed into another as his honed armament of combat brought down those who wished to end his life.

"I shall fight as though my body is a monsoon across the waves of the ocean." Casting aside his helm to flex the tense muscles of his neck, Naomori set his eyes upon a target just a short ways across the camp. Lord Imagawa's tent, he had to get over there and rescue his master before it was too late.

The sight all around was chaos – as foreign soldiers lay defeated all around him, others had not been so fortunate. He watched, his steeled heart holding fast as peasant soldiers and noble samurai alike were swept aside by an almost endless tide of enemy troops. However – the overlord of the Ii family felt it in his heart – resolve.

"There shall be no retreating – not until I have reached my goal." Wiping the red tinge from his blade, he took heavy-footed steps toward the tent of Lord Imagawa, slicing down any and all who dared to stand in his way.

With outstretched fingers, he yanked the opening of the tent apart. His nerve of steel collapsed in bit an instant – he felt it within his deepest core, hopelessness.

"You fiends," his voice boomed with a strength almost inhuman. Lord Imagawa lay there, still and lifeless in a pool of red. A group of five men surrounded his defeated form, the insignia of the Oda ever present upon their garments.

The power of his voice – it was enough to make the group of assassins turn all at once to face him. Their leader, a scarred peasant soldier, twirled his sword in hand and closed in for the attack, "It looks like we have another to deal with. Close in, boys… we'll make short work of this one."

Naomori took cautious steps back to prepare for yet another dance of combat. Hands slinked across the hilt of his sword, he anchored his feet into the muddied ground and let his lips curve into a bitter frown. "I shall avenge you, Lord Imagawa. On my honor as a retainer of the Ii family… I swear it."

However – his senses flared in alert as the audible sound of splashing footsteps closed in from behind. Turning one eye back, Master Ii let a disgruntled grunt escape, "Surrounded. Of course…."

Ten men stood at his back – all while five of them moved closer from the front. "I shall not die here…. I refuse to be bested by these commoners…."

"Aye, you can try, Samurai." The scarred peasant stepped forward first with another cocky twirl of his blade. "For once the common folk will have their day of victory. My name… is Shinsuke. Nothing more than a rogue good with a sword, but I tell ye now… once I claim your head too… I'll be made the master of my own house."

Such words were disgusting. Naomori only steeled his shaken core harder as he prepared to engage on battle. "You shall be made to know your place… commoner. For I shall not spare you or your men any mercy."

A glint of light – the common man known as 'Shinsuke bolted forth in a sheen of silver light, and just as quickly as he spoke, had he struck against the sword of Master Ii with unforgiving fury.

The bloodied sword of the retainer twirled in the air, and as it did so he felt his entire body surrender to a wave of powerful fury. "Impossible," his eyes narrowed, "To think I could be bested by one such as-"

The sharpness of mettle met with the gap in his armor – he felt it. A pain must supreme as the weapon of war tore into his mortal form and brought him falling to his knees with a violet cough of pain. A warmth filled Naomori's mouth – he tasted the coppery liquid in his throat – the sanguine liquid of life spewed forth.

"Not-" Master Ii ran a trembling hand across the length of his armor, "I cannot fall in such a place as th-"

A powerful stab – and in an instant there was nothing but darkness.

Shinsuke let out a dry laugh and his comrades followed suit, "These samurai forget themselves…. They fight in battle with such honor, and they fail to realize that us every day folk will fight in whatever way it takes to survive."

* * *

"Father… where are you?" A small girl wandered amidst a sea of bodies, her slender hands clasped together in fear as she trod between corpses, her robes stained red as she went.

There was nobody here – not a living soul, "Father!" It's Tsukiyo! Please!" She cried out again in panic as she searched the derelict tents. So many dead bodies littered the squelchy, muddy ground.

The young lady Tsukiyo felt her footing stumble in the wetness of the downpour. Sge fell face first into the mud. "This is terrible…. I want to go back home… back to the castle!"

A tear slid down her cheek as she hugged her arms around her chest. She felt no comfort. Loneliness and fear, both of these horrible emotions coursed through her body as she looked around through tear-misted eyes.

"Please… don't leave me alone. I don't want to be out here all by myself…."

Feet splashed through puddles – her ears flared against the audible warnings of people closing in. She looked back – her heart sinking with every passing moment.

"Hello…. Are you okay, little one?" However – a person she did not expect slid to a stop before her. A young lady with a tiny ponytail clad in form fitting battle armor to protect her ample womanly assets. Indeed, Tsukiyo had seen her before.

"Lady Naotora!" With a thankful yelp, the young girl flung herself forward and squeezed the older woman's middle with watery eyes of brown, "Thank goodness. I couldn't find anyone! Father is gone… and all of his soldiers are… are…"

"It's okay!" The lady of the Ii family held the girl close with a gentle smile upon her lips, "I promise… I'll take you to safety. The last of the soldiers are withdrawing…. We're going to leave with them before we run out of time."

A second set of footsteps, they stopped just short of the two women. "We need to leave… there's very little time left. Word is spreading at Lord Imagawa has already fallen in battle. If they box us in then we won't have a chance."

The voice in tow with those footsteps was smooth and gentle – serene amidst the battle. Tsukiyo looked up to see for herself. A young man stood before her and Naotora. Long, darkened hair rested below his shoulders and his muscular form bore the robes of a Ronin swordsman. His eyes held a powerful flare to them and shone the deepest green like emeralds. In his hand he held a large, serrated greatsword with an almost ghostly silver sheen to it. The blade – it flickered in the glow of the moonlight amidst the falling rain.

Naotora stood, still keeping her hands gently upon Tsukiyo's shoulders as she looked back to the man who held the sword, "This is Mister Zaisan," she spoke with a soft voice, "He is going to help us defeat the bad men so that we can escape."

"Shido-San," Lady Ii continued, "This girl is very important…. She's the daughter of lord Akihide Nishimura… one of the most respected families in service to the Imagawa. Word has it that the Nishimura troops have already withdrawn… we have to escort her to safety."

"Fine by me," the green-eyed Ronin threw his sword over shoulder and smiled warmly toward the young princess, "Promise you, milady…. We'll get you to safety!"

"Thank you…Zaisan," Tsukiyo blushed softly and hid behind Naotora, still clutching her hand tightly.

"Alright…." Naotora nodded to herself and gave a nervous smile. Turning back, she pointed in the direction of a blustery treeline to the north of the desolated camp, "Beyond this woodland is a small village. What remains of the Imagawa forces is meeting there to withdraw. We should head that way…."

"Very well – boss lady." Zaisan nodded with a crack of his knuckles, "Let's get straight to business."

Alas – the trio began their journey in the beating intensity of the rain. Smoke bloomed amidst the cooling embrace of the rainwater as their feet trudged through the sodden ground.

Lady Naotora held the young princess of the Nishimura family by her hand as her sword-wielding guardian acted as point man.

"Together," The Ii daughter sighed, "We'll have to work together in order to survive… Zaisan."

"Worry not," he shot back with a carefree smile as he sidestepped a burned out tent and approached the treeline. "You spared my life when you could've ended me, Miss Naotora. Way I see it… I'm in your debt until we can find a safe way outta this hellhole.

For a brief moment the rogue paused, his lips curved in a small frown, "You're the first person to show me some real mercy… for that… I'm grateful."

A warmth consumed Naotora's cheeks – a red flush consumed them and she froze for a moment, "Y-you're welcome."

The trees swayed in the rainy wind – their path ahead was clear. With the man of black hair leading the way, the three ragtag survivors kept on moving ahead. "Into the forest we go," Tsukiyo chimed nervously, "….I don't have a very nice feeling about this whole thing…."

"You and me both, milady," Zaisan grunted as he slashed through a pair of tall trees, "You and me both…."

Yet they had no choice – it was the only way to ensure their survival.

 **To be continued….**

* * *

 **Thank you very much for taking time out of your day to read this. If you liked it then please feel free to leave me some feedback if you want to. I'm always eager to hear what my readers think. Your thoughts and opinions are always welcome. Please keep on supporting Samurai Warriors and I'll see you in the next chapter. Thanks again!**


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